


Dancing in the Dark

by Waterlillyoz



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Crying, Dark, Death, Established Relationship, Fear, Feels, Horror, Hurt, I Don't Even Know, Ice Skating, Injury, Loss, M/M, Modern Era, One Shot, Pain, Panic, Paranoia, Paranormal, Plot, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Sad, Supernatural Elements, Tension, Thriller, Tragedy, Trauma, Violence, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 22:27:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10603554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waterlillyoz/pseuds/Waterlillyoz
Summary: The hair on the back of Jean's neck stood up as the clapping continued to quicken in pace. It was an unnatural sound. How was anyone able to clap that fast and loud? "I know you are there. Why don't you just come out?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a write off prompt. Prompt was to use Yuri on Ice characters; while practicing in an empty stadium late at night, with all the doors locked, you hear someone clapping.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, see below for the link to my sister's response.

    Jean landed the quadruple jump with ease, spinning out before coming to a stop with a spray of ice, his hands held above his head in a triumphant pose. His heartbeat could be heard over his breathless panting as he finished this routine to perfection for the fifth time that night, a large smile flashing across his bronzed skin. His heartbeat was loud enough that he didn't hear it at first, he thought it was just the ringing in his ears. He thought he was imagining it; after all, he was the only one left in the building. He had locked all the doors himself. There was no one in the building this late at night, or rather this early in the morning. He thought it might have been the wind, yet he had never heard this sound before and he had made sure all the windows were closed. 

    Jean leaned over the side railing of the ice rink, his dark blue eyes squinting into the darkness beyond. He had turned off most of the lights, except those on the ice, so as he searched into the distance it wasn't much use. From within the hallway, the sound continued to call out from the pitch black darkness. It had started slow and built in pace. It was the undeniable sound of clapping. 

    "Hello? Who is there?"

    The hair on the back of Jean's neck stood up as the clapping continued to quicken in pace. It was an unnatural sound. How was anyone able to clap that fast and loud? "I know you are there. Why don't you just come out?" He wiped the sweat from his forehead, running a hand through his black undercut. Somehow the ominous sound was getting louder now, as if it was echoing inside his head. The pace was reaching a supernatural speed, the clapping now a high pitched sepulchral sound that wouldn't stop. Jean fell to his knees hard on the ice, hands over his ears, "Shut up! Shut up! Stop it! Who are you?! Just come out already! Stop!"

    "Alright, alright. Calm your shit," the familiar voice came from the opposite side of the rink - the opposite side of the sound. Yet as soon as the small man had spoken, the clapping had ceased. 

    "Yuri-chan?"

    "Idiot! I told you to stop calling me that," he snarled as he walked over to the railing Jean was leaning against once more. He slipped a hand through his chin length blonde hair, pushing his black hoodie back off his face. A cascade of blond was covering his right eye, a curious blue-green eye was staring from the left at the other man with an eyebrow raised, "What's your issue anyway?"

    "Why were you clapping?"

    "What are you talking about?"

    "The clapping? The clapping! You were clapping!"

    "Huh? What are you talking about old man? I wasn't clapping!"

    "When you came in just now, you heard the clapping, didn't you?"

    "All I heard was you screaming like a lunatic."

    Jean looked toward the dark hallway with dread. The shadow was still standing there. It had never moved, "Is there anyone else here with you?"

    "Of course not. It's two in the morning," Jean flinched as the clapping began again, soft and slow, as if starting a new song. "What is it? What's wrong?"

    "The clapping! Don't you hear it?" His dark blue eyes widened with disbelief. 

    Yuri placed the back of his hand on Jean's forehead, "Are you feeling okay?"

    Jean grabbed the small blonde's face, turning it toward the hallway, "What do you see? Really look."

    Yuri rolled his eyes but stared into the distance, trying to see what the other man wanted him to. "There is nothing there. Come on, let's just go home," he grabbed Jean's hand, encouraging him to move, "I'm tired. We can figure this out tomorrow."

    Jean sighed, "I guess you are right."

    Yuri smiled and winked up at the man before him, "I always am. So, what did-" his voice was cut off as he was lifted into the air by a hazy, black shadow. His eyes were wide as he was twisted up and around, staring with hopeless fear at the man standing flabbergasted underneath him. Yuri fluttered back and forth like a rag doll a few feet above Jean's eyes before crashing to the cold, rigid floor below. 

    "Yuri!" Jean screamed, ignoring the pain in his bruised knees as he fell to the ground. He held the blonde in his arms, tears running down his cheeks as he stared at the shadow. The shadow was no longer clapping, now the sound that surrounded the dreary form was cackling. The shadow was transforming. The cackling was turning into giggling. As if the shadow was a school girl, talking to a group of friends. It had a feminine figure. The figure was moving with glee, circling the couple. The figure was menacing. 

    It moved onto the ice like a well-handled marionette. She danced with ease, her body contorting in impossible positions as the somber giggling continued. She swayed back and forth, as if dancing on the air, her skates silent against the ice. If she was even wearing ice skates, it was hard to tell through the tears. The acrid stench of petrol was filling the area. The smell was strong enough to taste. Jean saw an opened gas can on the ice, the liquid was dashing in several directions, making patterns against the cold surface beneath.

    Before he knew what he was doing, a lit match was in his hand. It was swaying before his eyes. It was burning fast, until it was at his fingertips. With a wince, he let the match go, igniting the fuel beyond. Jean couldn't take his eyes off it; it was beautiful. The flames were flickering with amusement, skipping closer, as if many arms were reaching out for him. 

    The only sound Jean could here was the giggling as the amorphous creature continued to twirl, her face starting to melt against the flames. The giggling was high pitched and foreboding. It was inhuman, as was the smile that seemed to spread across her face from ear to ear. The dark red lipstick perfect against her porcelain face. The foul smell of petrol and burning flesh was now ingrained inside his brain. As if petrified in place, he was unable to turn away as the guttural voice beckoned him closer. His body was quivering, he wasn't sure how he was moving at all. As he got closer, his knees buckled yet he was unable to stop moving forward. Sweat forming on his dark brow as he came closer, the flames now reflecting in his eyes. The sweet smell of death engulfed him as he staggered further toward the sinister woman within the flames. 

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the write off response by iTana_007 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/10603590


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